Captain of the Guard
by klained
Summary: written for an LJ comment fic meme: Sandor has an exhibitionist kink. He loves to "get caught" by people doing unspeakable things to the beautiful Lady of Winterfell


It was late as Sandor removed his armor. New men had arrived to train as guards and evaluating them was long, exhausting work. The Lady of Winterfell often admonished him for being too hard on recruits, but it was better to show new men what was expected of them than to have them fail when it mattered most. Now that he had seen each man's strengths and weaknesses, he only needed to choose more experienced men to mentor and help train them. A very feminine throat cleared behind him and he decided to save that for tomorrow.

"My Lady," he bowed deeply. The evening watch could arrive at any time and it would be improper for the captain of Winterfell's guard to not show proper respect to the Lady. After all this time, Sansa still believed in doing things properly.

"Are these new men worthy of serving Winterfell?" she asked as he rose to his full height.

Sandor could only shrug. "Most are still green, but with training they'll do the north proud." He got an idea and smirked. "Come here."

Sansa unhesitatingly approached and wrapped her arms around his waist as he dipped for a kiss. The unwed Lady of Winterfell's affection for her captain of the guard was an open secret and it wasn't in him to deny the gossips a good story. He tangled his fingers in her hair and deepened the kiss. His other hand slipped to her lower back and pulled her close.

"Here?" Sansa squeaked as she broke away. She no doubt felt his shaft hardening against her stomach.

"Aye," he answered before consuming her in another kiss.

With a step, he pulled her behind a rack of swords. Any man who came in would only see them kissing. Satisfied, his hand at her waist went lower, pulling up and bunching her skirts in his hand. When he reached the hand, he slipped his hand underneath to stroke her hip, her thigh, her arse, any bit of her he could reach. He slid his hand around her front and gently stroked her through her smallclothes. Despite bucking against him, she still broke away with a gasp.

"Someone could walk in." Sansa's voice was breathless and his cock was nearly painfully hard.

"Aye," he said again.

This time Sandor kissed her jaw and throat, a satisfactory moan sounding in his ear. Her smallclothes started to grow damp. The hand in her hair moved down her back to her waist to hold her in place. Sansa's own hands wrapped around his wide shoulders and tangled in his hair as she tried to hold his head to her neck.

"But you are covered in sweat," she sighed.

He moved to the other side of her face, nipping at her earlobe before grazing his teeth down her throat. "You never complained before." He reached inside her smallclothes and felt how wet she truly was. "You don't seem to be complaining now either."

Sandor pressed Sansa to the wall behind her before he pulled one of her legs up to hook at his waist. She had to stand on her toes for them to line up but he could feel her heat through his trousers as he ground against her. She was soon panting and rubbing against him.

"Such a proper lady," he whispered teasingly in her ear. "What would your castle guard say if they could see you now?" As if on cue, voices could be heard outside the armory.

"Hurry," she begged instead.

In moments, he had loosened his trousers and pulled himself out. After unlacing her smallclothes, he sheathed himself inside her in one quick movement. He was soon grinding deeply into her.

"There're some knights out there," he continued. "What would they think if they saw the proper Lady of Winterfell being _fucked _by a dog?" He punctuated his words with a rough thrust.

"Don't stop," Sansa whimpered.

They both struggled to quiet their release before she went limp against him. Sandor carefully retied her smallclothes and arranged her skirts before tucking himself away. Her tiny hands stroked up and down his chest before she stood on her toes and delicately kissed his lips one last time.

Sansa breathed deeply, clearly still short of breath. "I nearly forgot. I came to invite _my _dog to supper in my solar. Will you join me?" She smiled coyly up at him.

"Aye, little bird. Supper will be nice." Sandor tenderly kissed her forehead just as the evening guard filed into the armory, mumbling their courtesies to their Lady.


End file.
